


The Traitor Who Loved Me

by RedTeamShark



Series: With My Little Eye [9]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, M/M, Mercenaries, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8778202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: I need him, now more than ever, and he’s just vanished from my life. I can’t believe Gavin would do this to me after what we had together.--I trusted him, that’s what I keep coming back to. I trusted him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life and he turned his back on me. That motherfucker.





	1. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I need him, now more than ever, and he’s just vanished from my life. I can’t believe Gavin would do this to me after what we had together.

I need him, now more than ever, and he’s just vanished from my life. I can’t believe Gavin would do this to me after what we had together. He can’t be a traitor, he just can’t be. There’s no way he’d turn his back on me, on us… This is just too much.

I rub my temple lightly, looking around the clean exam room and sighing. There’s no time to worry about Gavin, not while I have to maintain a solid explanation for why I’m here and what happened to me. There will be plenty of time to think about betrayal after I’m patched up.

A doctor comes into the room, young and tired looking, his eyes on my chart. “Mr. Sanchez?” He asks, glancing up just long enough to see me nod. “Your x-rays are back. I must say, you’re incredibly lucky. As far as I can tell your nerve endings weren’t too severely damaged, it’s mostly structural.”

“Don’t call me lucky.” I mumble, looking down at the misshapen mess that was my hand just a day before. Fuck.

“You said you shut it in a door?”

“Yeah.” It was a decent enough cover story, easy to remember and the injury should match.

“Then you’re lucky. It’s a rare thing to not have nerve damage with that sort of injury.” The doctor smiles, as if bestowing some gift on me. I want to shake him.

“How long?”

“Pardon?”

“How long before my hand’s back to normal?” I hiss out, clenching my left fist.

He sits in a chair, staring at me until I turn to face him completely. With a sigh, the doctor lowers my chart. “You’re going to need surgery. The bones have to be reconstructed and then allowed to set to heal. It’s going to take a long time, Mr. Sanchez, but I’m fairly confident you can make a full recovery.”

I return my gaze to my ruined hand, gritting my teeth. “Surgery’s out. I need the fast route, doc.”

“Mr. Sanchez, with an injury like that there _is_ no fast route—“

“Then I’ll find one. Bandage me up, I’m leaving.” I clench my teeth against the pain as I lift my hand from the table, holding it out to him. “Time isn’t exactly on my side.”

The doctor sighs but begins to bandage my hand, his eyes straying to my face as he works. “You presented with some facial lacerations as well. Those from a door?”

“No.” I’m glad to see him look away, I don’t have time to come up with an answer about the cuts and bruises to my face.

Just as the doctor is finishing with my hand there’s a knock at the door, a nurse opening it and poking his head in a second later. “Doctor, we’re going to need you in exam room three next. We have a patient with a GSW to the shoulder that you’ll need to look at.”

“Alright.” The doctor sighs, finishing my hand and nodding. “Mr. Sanchez, I hope you’ll reconsider the surgical option. I understand not wanting to take the slow path, but it’s the best option for the fullest recovery.” He runs a hand through his hair, glancing towards the door.

“Go on, doc.” I wave him off left-handed, examining my bandages. “I’ll see myself out.”

I leave a short time after the door clicks shut behind the doctor, checking myself out at the reception desk and exiting the hospital. Ryan is waiting in the parking lot, leaned against a light post with his hands in his pockets. Mid afternoon sun shines down on his tense face and I stop next to him, sighing.

“How bad?”

“Very.”

“We’re stealing a car and getting home. Pick something you like, okay?” His hand rubs my back briefly as I gaze around the parking lot, pointing at random. I settle in to an observation position, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious of us as he breaks into the car and quickly starts it. Climbing into the passenger seat, I close my eyes.

“Gavin…?”

“You heard them. He was working for the Hunters and us at the same time and they didn’t set it up.”

“Third party?”

“Has to be. Don’t worry, Ray.” Ryan’s hand on my thigh, rubbing lightly. “Things will be alright.”

“I’m sorry… if I hadn’t been caught…”

“Then we’d still have a traitor among us. We’re going home and we’ll figure out what to do.”

–

‘Figuring out what to do’ amounts to sitting around not doing a lot, I guess. Ryan and I try to talk about it, but what is there to really discuss? We don’t have a clue who Gavin’s working for or what he was after and the fact that he was apparently playing double agent on us _and_ the Hunters just makes it more confusing. If he was spying on us for them it’d make sense, at least.

Not to mention that I’m out of commission for work. That much becomes obvious the second I try to log into the computer. I’m reduced to hunting and pecking with my left hand only, my right hand too smothered in bandages to type properly, every movement of it causing me to almost black out from pain. Without the adrenaline flow keeping me numb it really hurts like a motherfucker.

I curl up next to Ryan on the couch when he turns the TV on, resting my head on his chest and letting his hand run down my side. When he shifts beside me, pressing his lips to my temple, I turn to look up at him. His hand slips under my chin, tilting my head up just slightly so he can plant a kiss on my lips.

“I’m sorry…”

“What for?” I question, blinking a few times. There’s real regret written in his blue eyes and it’s just a bit unsettling to see.

“I should have protected you.” Ryan looks down, his hand tightening slightly on my hip.

“There was nothing you could do about it…” I shiver, inching just a bit closer to him. “I’m just glad you came to save me. Being in that room with that guy… it brought back too many memories.”

“Puerto Rico?” He doesn’t say anything else when I nod, just holding me and kissing me again.

And for the first time since I woke up bound to a chair, I relax, letting my mind clear and just going limp, knowing that I’m safe now—really and truly safe. The relief washes over me followed by a wave of exhaustion. I’m chasing sleep down when a voice, a completely unfamiliar voice, startles me into full wakefulness.

Ryan is awake beside me, tensed, on alert. His hands are no longer on me, instead pulling the handgun from the table next to him.

“I know you two can hear me. You’re in danger if you stay there. There’s no time to explain, you need to pack your things and be gone. You have fifteen minutes at the most.”

“The computer.” I whisper, looking over to the machine. Ryan nods, standing and walking over to it, carefully tapping the blank screen to life.

“Who is this?”

“That’s not important, Ryan. You and Ray need to get your essentials and get out of there if you want to stay alive.” The voice has a British accent, the words clipped and blunt. “All you need to know is that I’m an ally.”

“I’ve heard that before…” Ryan reaches to shut the computer off, freezing when the voice speaks again.

“Don’t do that. They won’t suspect that I’m helping you, not if you don’t let them. You two know how to bail without looking like you’re bailing, now do it.” A sharp inhale, the command in the next word sending me to my feet involuntarily. “Go.”

Ryan and I exchange a glance, before we’re on the move, packing things and making sure to leave the apartment just as it’s supposed to be. The voice speaks up from the computer again as we’re finishing.

“There’s going to be a drop for you, equipment so we can stay in touch—what you’re using now isn’t safe. The drop point isn’t exactly secure, but Gavin says you’ll know where it is. Move, you two. I’ll radio again when you’re clear.”

“Gavin?” I repeat, looking to Ryan. He shrugs, furrowing his brow, taking my uninjured hand and leading me out of the apartment.

We’re just driving the car stolen from the hospital parking lot out of the front gate when the building explodes.


	2. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I trusted him, that’s what I keep coming back to. I trusted him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life and he turned his back on me. That motherfucker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited to change some of the language.

I trusted him, that’s what I keep coming back to. I trusted him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life and he turned his back on me. That motherfucker. If I ever get a chance to see him I’m going to murder him and it’s going to be fucking slow and painful. He doesn’t deserve the mercy of a quick death, bullet to the head and it’s done. It’s been a long time since I’ve really worked someone over, broken them down completely, and I have every intention of making Gavin goddamned motherfucking cocksuck Free the next person that I kill.

A concussion isn’t enough to keep me from seething, sitting in the hospital waiting room with Jack while Geoff gets patched up. The only reason I’m even here is that Geoff gave the direct order for us all to stick together—we don’t know if 6 will try to come after us or what the fucking deal with Gavin is, so we need to watch each other’s backs. All I want to do is destroy something, though. Put a gun to someone’s head and make them beg me for mercy that I don’t have anymore.

I sigh, slumping lower in the chair and pulling my hat down over my head. Next to me Jack flips through a magazine as if nothing is fucking wrong with the world. As if our boss isn’t in a hospital room getting patched up from getting shot in the fucking arm, as if we didn’t lose our only lead on 6, as if Gavin isn’t a traitor. Everything is making me see red.

The only small comfort to be had is remembering the way the guy screamed when I shattered his hand. The little fuck won’t be doing any more hacking for a good long while, I made sure of that. We’ll have time to regroup while they’re out of commission, maybe have time to hunt them down and finish the job we started.

“Hey.” Jack speaks up next to me, getting my attention. “You’re going to break the arm of the chair if you keep squeezing it like that. Lighten up.”

My jaw clenches down hard enough that I swear I feel teeth crack, eyes darting to my white-knuckle grip on the chair. Who is he to tell me to lighten up? Just who the fuck does Jack Pattillo think he is, telling me to lighten up after the giant clusterfuck that today turned into? He’s the one who let our goddamned prisoner out and I don’t give a _shit_ if the guy had him at gunpoint he should have fought back.

There’s a moment of tense silence as I stare at my hands and fight the urge to hit something before Jack stands, shaking his head. “I better call Caiti…” He says quietly, stepping over to the other side of the lobby.

I’m still trying to set fire to the floor in front of me with only the force of my will when Jack comes back from his phone call. Geoff steps out of the exam room a few minutes later, white bandages around his upper arm. Jack and I stand up, following him out to the parking lot. We all stop, frowning and looking around, remembering that we came here in the ambulance and none of our cars are anywhere near the interrogation apartment (and thank god for that because it’s going to be a hard enough story to cover from the cops without them being able to identify us).

Geoff pulls his phone from his pocket, dialing and speaking quickly with someone. I cross my arms, leaning against a light post and resuming my job of glaring at everything around me. Knowing that the boss is okay makes me feel a little better, but after today I’m still too pissed to even try interacting like a normal person. All I want to do is find a bar, get drunk, and start a fistfight. Hopefully Geoff lets me go home soon so that I can do that.

–

By some miracle, Geoff agrees that we should all go home. Griffon drops me off at my apartment and I force myself to wave goodbye to her and Geoff, promising to call if anything happens.

Instead of letting myself inside my front door, though, I stand there, running my hands over the keys on my keyring. I have a key to Gavin’s apartment, just like he has a key to mine and he’s only on the other side of the complex… I shouldn’t go over to his place, he’s not going to be there and what the hell am I meant to do if he is, anyways? Still…

The path over to Gavin’s apartment is familiar, past the pool and the front office, up a flight of stairs to his door at the back corner of the building. I try the doorknob out of curiosity before letting myself in with the key, turning the deadbolt behind me. Everything that’s been happening is just too much, but being in here immediately makes me feel calmer. I grab a beer out of Gavin’s fridge like the apartment is my own, falling onto his couch and turning his TV on as I drink. This place really is as familiar as my own apartment, but without Gavin here it’s empty.

I trusted him, that’s the part that’s killing me. I’ve never trusted people easily before, but as soon as I met him I trusted him. He was the person I went to for help as soon as I needed it, the only person I considered bringing my problems to. How the fuck did that even happen?

I’m well on my way to being drunk and destructive in Gavin’s apartment by sundown, beer bottles scattered across his floor, accompanied by things that I’ve thrown off his countertops and tables. I’m moving into his bedroom, intent to tear it apart. He’s gotta have some sort of evidence of who he’s working for in this place, what the fuck he’s doing. Geoff says that he’s not working for 6, that they were as surprised by his betrayal as we were (but they were probably fucking lying). There’s gotta be something.

I flip his mattress up, grinning and tipping my bottle as I find a smartphone under his bed. Well, that certainly answers that. I snatch up the device, holding it triumphantly before trying to figure out how to turn it on.

Finally the screen lights up, the phone going through the boot up process. I grin, stopping dead when it immediately begins to speak in Gavin’s voice.

“Michael, if you’ve found this, then things have gone wrong.” I stop on my walk back to the kitchen for another beer, staring at the phone. “Things are probably completely bollocks up, Michael. So first I want to say that I’m glad you’re okay. Whatever else is happening, I’m glad that my little Michael is okay.”

I fall heavily onto the couch, staring at the phone as it seems to work on its own, information coming up on the screen, Gavin’s voice still talking. “Everything that’s about to happen is my fault, but I’m going to try to get you out of there. This is a drop point. Call the number in this phone and code in with—“

The voice cuts off, the phone screen going black. I frantically fumble with it, nearly jumping out of my skin when another voice issues from the phone. Still British, but definitely not Gavin, this guy sounds tired and frustrated.

“I’m going to fucking murder him for this, swear to Christ. Hey, can you hear me? Is this Michael Jones?”

I must be really fucking drunk, but I nod. “Uh, yeah. Who the fuck are you?”

“Unimportant. Well, since Gavin set this up for you at least it’s going to make it easier to explain. First of all, you’re going to want to get out of his apartment right away. Don’t go back to your own, either, they’ve already got it locked down. Jump the fence and get out of there before anyone sees you. And for the love of god, you better sober up fast.”

“Just what the fuck is going on here?” I snap, shaking the phone as if that will provide answers.

“I’m saving your life, Michael Jones. You and the rest of the Hunters, because this entire operation has been a lie from the beginning. Now get out of there before you take a bullet to the brain.”

I swallow, getting ready to just shut the phone off and go back to my own apartment, sure that someone’s fucking with me or maybe I’m drunk and imagining this. Just as my finger hovers over the power button, Gavin’s voice issues from the phone again.

“Michael, please, just do this. I don’t want you to get hurt, boy.” And that fucking trust, that feeling that listening to Gavin will make things okay, comes back. I get up, stuffing the phone in my pocket and leaving the apartment, taking the back stairs. I hop over the fence easily, moving down the darkened streets and trying my best to appear casual.

When my phone rings I nearly jump out of my skin, fumbling to answer it, barely noticing that it’s Geoff on the caller ID.

“Michael, regroup. We have a situation. Base three.” He commands quietly.

“You got it, boss.” I’m almost instantly sober, the commanding tone of Geoff’s voice enough to snap me out of anything. I stop at the street corner to get my bearings, taking off towards our tertiary base and trying not to worry too much about why we’re meeting there instead of the primary or secondary locations.

Something big must be happening again.


End file.
